Chen remained standing in the corner of the room. He was dressed to...well...dressed to do absolutely nothing for the next eight hours. He was not sterile, meaning Chen could not touch anything in the operating room. If someone would spot him even leaving his little spot, things would not end well. The orthopedic discipline often needed to take x-rays during the surgery, to see whether pins were placed in a right manner within or onto the bone. This meant Chen wore a leaden vest, which was heavier than initially thought. He was sweaty, uncomfortable and uninterested for the remaining part of the day.

Surgery was not something he liked doing, or liked to be a part of. The attending surgeon was not really interested in a young student who took too much place. He was in a hurry and did not even ask him one single question. The nurses were nice, though.

Chen kept himself busy, trying to stay lucid. He focused on forgetting the sweating and the heaviness of the leaden vest. His thoughts were all over the place. He tried to remember some rules that were incredible important in medical school.

1. Never break the sterile field. Ever.

2. Always be nice to nurses. Always. They can make or break you.

3. A woman is always assumed pregnant until proven otherwise.

Chen tried to remember more, but they were closing the incision. The surgeon rushed out of the room without saying goodbye and his assistant took over the finishing suturing. Chen exhaled and at his hands. He was wearing a splint over the glove. It had hurt putting it on, but there was nothing to be done about that. Because of his broken finger he could not be part of the sterile field the next weeks. He hated surgery.

No matter how long the surgery took and how useless him being there was, Chen always remained inside the room until the patient woke up. It was a thing he needed to see. Chen felt like most people forgot the risks the patient took upon agreeing to be put to sleep. There was always a chance they would not return. This person did though and Chen finally could go home.

Minseok found him at the library a week later. There were not a lot of people like last time, but he still picked the seat next to Chen. "Hey there," he began. "How's the finger?"

Chen blinked and had nearly forgotten about it. "Yes, eh..." He had been quiet for too long. It took a while to form the words. "They had to take the pin out early. Doctor said it wasn't supporting the fracture."

"Dang. So, they just pulled it out?"

"Yeah. Just like that."

His mouth hung open. "They didn't give you a shot of anesthetics?"

Chen had to smile at that. "When they put the pin in, they gave me a shot. It was the most painful thing I've ever been through. After that I needed five more until the feeling was gone. Pulling it out without it was mercy."

"Oh wow. I didn't know. Can you be a surgeon with a broken finger?" He asked and glared at the table in front of Chen. It was empty. Chen had not been doing anything for half an hour. Just lost in thought. He was glad Minseok had pulled him out.

"I don't want to be a surgeon." He shrugged and bit his lip. "My dad is a surgeon." When the words came out, Chen knew he had said too much. There was a line he did not want to cross. This conversation needed to be about his finger, not personal stuff. But the way Minseok held his gaze, Chen had a hard time keeping himself focused on following that rule.

"My dad is a train driver."